


Iron Between My Teeth

by smile_it_will_get_better



Category: The Umbrella Academy (TV)
Genre: A tiny bit of fluff, BAMF Klaus Hargreeves, But I wanted another fic of Klaus and Diego trying to solve a crime, But then again it's centered around a gang and organized crime so what do you exspect, Dark, Detective Diego Hargreeves, Diego Hargreeves Needs A Hug, Diego and Eudora deserve better, Dumbasses, F/M, Fluff and Angst, Gang Violence, Gaslighting, Good Brother Diego Hargreeves, He's just trying to do his job and be a good brother, I can't tag a lot without ruining the story ack, I'll add on more if I need them but to be honest I don't know where this is really going, I'm Bad At Tagging, It get's kind of dark, It's late give me a break, Italian Mafia, Klaus Hargreeves Deserves Better, Klaus Hargreeves Needs A Hug, Klaus Hargreeves Needs Help, Klaus Hargreeves other powers, Klaus and Diego being best buds, M/M, Mafia AU, Mild Hurt/Comfort, Not a lot though, Organized Crime, Protective Diego Hargreeves, Trust Issues, Undercover Missions, Unreliable Narrator, With A Twist, and i love them, but like
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-09-10
Updated: 2019-09-10
Packaged: 2020-10-13 20:01:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,122
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20588267
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/smile_it_will_get_better/pseuds/smile_it_will_get_better
Summary: He lived his whole life craving that validation on some level, and solving and busting small level crime wasn’t doing it for him anymore. Doing all this shit under the cover of his mask just wasn’t enough for him.But taking down a famed gang? Uncovering a possible Mafia relation? It was huge, like nothing he could have ever imagined.He couldn’t ruin this, couldn’t fuck this up. He wasn't sure what he'd do if he failed....After getting kicked out of the police academy, Diego's job as a cop isn't quite over, but after he gets involved in a case too large for even him, will he be able to get both him and Klaus out of this in one piece? Will he be able to stay true to the person he is inside?





	Iron Between My Teeth

**Author's Note:**

> I'm trying to write Diego y'all. But I'm not too good at it so be patient while I try to get into the groove of writing like him. But basically I've started school and I'm doing both Legal studies and Forensics, and we were told to research the Mafia and this idea popped into my head. Don't ask why, it just did. 
> 
> Hope you guys enjoy, I have no clue where I'm going with this story but it'll be a fun ride to get there.

The Hancock Diner was not a place you would go to for a romantic dinner. 

With its dim lighting and dust tables, it isn’t a regular outing for people with dignity. The food is subpar, mostly just a random selection of various burgers and pies that locals will sometimes rave about, depending on the season and their mood. The owner is a fairly intimidating lady with biceps large enough to crush a watermelon or someone’s head, and it has a strict policy of no funny business. 

It was a place that was just standing on the cusp of being sketchy, with a good enough reputation that it still pulled in regular normal customers. But not a good enough reputation that anyone batted an eye at a man dressed in leather meeting with a man dressed in a pristine suit. 

“You have no concept of how to fly under the radar do you?” Diego asked as he settled into the barstool beside his case handler, Agent Cortez. 

“I have no need.” The agent replied smoothly. “I bet that leather is a much better disguise.” 

“Regrettably, everyone just thinks I’m into some serious BDSM.” Diego deadpanned. 

They stared at each other for a long moment, neither men breaking the silence. 

Then the agent smiled, snorting softly and dissolving into soft laughter, Diego quickly falling suit. 

“Long time man,” Cortez said, clapping Diego on the shoulder. “Long time.” 

“You can’t complain,” Diego shot back. “You’re the one with the ability to call these meetings.”

“Sorry for maybe understanding that I can’t just call an important government sanctioned meeting for no reason,” Cortez said, flagging down a waitress. “Two coffee’s please, thank you.” 

Diego sighed, looking around. There weren’t many people around, a few tourists poking at the suspicious looking salad, who really came to a burger place for a salad like honestly, and two college-aged dudes who looked hella hungover. 

Diego didn’t mind of course, knowing the fewer people here the better. The employees knew better than to bug them, but locals and tourists sometimes stuck their nose where it shouldn’t be stuck. Which wasn’t good for someone like him. 

“Do I have a new job?” Diego asked, turning back to the man beside him, who was scrolling through his phone, face unreadable. 

“Sort of.” He replied. 

“Good,” Diego leaned back, smiling thanks at the waitress who delivered him a mug. “I’ve been bored out of my mind doing whatever shit you sent me to do here. Am I moving again?” 

This gig was something he treasured. 

He tried the police academy, even making it to final exams. He made friends, connections, had finally managed to break free of the reputation his father had forced onto him. He was no longer the Kraken, the childhood superhero. He was Diego Hargreeves, soon to be Police Academy graduate. 

Then one of the other kids started talking shit, had run his mouth a little too far about Ben and Five and Diego couldn’t help it, it was like he was destined to break that assholes nose. 

He didn’t regret it, couldn’t regret it when he was publicly mocking the death of his brother, but it managed to get him a one-way ticket out of the academy and into the streets. 

A week later, when Diego was still picking up the pieces and wondering what the hell he was to do now, he was approached by the chief of the police. Apparently, even though half the police department hated him for one reason or another, they accepted that he had talent. 

So he was offered a job, to become an inside man, a sleeper almost, part of an off the book’s operation. He would be given a place, told to make himself comfortable, to assimilate to the community and sometimes watched after certain suspects, and then they would call him in for an assignment, give him a job or bust to carry out. Hew as accepted into the Toronto Police, just as under the wraps.

He loved his job. It was the glamour of the police work he craved, but also the action and excitement he found lacking in the job. He got to go out and serve justice, to do good around where he was stationed. The only downside was that sometimes he got bored. Sometimes there would be nothing to investigate, no one to monitor, and he would be left for months, doing nothing but twiddling his thumbs and throwing knives. 

He loved his hometown to an extent, and he enjoyed being close enough to people he liked interacting with, but every time he got sent here to the regular alias he often grew bored. He loved the whole Vigilante getup they created for him, and the joy of seeing Eudora’s face every time he showed up on her scene was priceless, but even he sometimes craved more.

Maybe he would get a good job this time, something involving a planned offence, something he could do to get that familiar rush of adrenalin and the scene of achievement when he finally took someone down, could foil someone’s thought out plans. 

“You’re to stay here,” Cortez said, and Diego barely suppressed a groan. On one hand, that would mean less hassle and he would be able to continue to harass Eudora. But on the other hand it meant that whatever came next wouldn’t be as exciting. “We have a big job for you.” 

“What big job is there around here?” Diego asked, slightly suspicious. Their city wasn’t really crime central, and if it was really a big case, it was unlikely Diego would see it that way too. He much preferred the jobs in other cities, sometimes even in other countries. Which wasn’t that legal, but he hadn’t been caught yet. And technically every part of his job was illegal. 

“We have doubtlessly the most important job to give you so far,” Cortex continued as if Diego never spoke. “I need to know your up to it.” 

Diego groaned loudly, downing his coffee. One thing he didn’t miss about his friend, the dramatics. 

“Get to the fucking point,” He hisses. 

Cortez looks offended for all of a second before he’s forgot and continuing on. 

“You already know of the gang violence we have around here,” He said lowly, ducking his head so no one can read his lips. “But we’ve recently come across an anonymous tip that it’s a lot larger than we originally thought.” 

Diego nodded, running his lips between his teeth, the pads of his fingers twitched over the knives on his belt as he processed the information. Regrettably, he was no stranger to gang violence. He had been sent more than once to investigate and take down a few of them, busting drug meetups or other meetings the cops for tips about. There wasn’t many around here though, a few major crime families down west, but nothing that really reached over here. He wasn’t sure what to think so far. 

“Apparently, it’s rumored that an up and coming gang has surfaced, and somehow it has ties to the Italian Mafia,” Cortez said grimly, and Diego reeled back slightly. Bigger than what he was thinking of. He was excepting another up and coming gang, someone for him to watch out for. But connections to the Italian mafia? That was pretty big. 

“How credible is this source?” He asked, his grip tightening on his knife. 

“It was anonymous, but we looked into it, and everything he said so far has been true.” Cortez sighed. “I don’t want to believe it either, but it seems like more than a few of the recent shootings we’ve attributed to gang violence may have been this group starting to rise to power.” 

“Fuck,” Diego cursed, shaking his head. “What are you expecting me to do about it?” 

“You know the casino down on fifth street?” Cortez asked. 

“Of course,” Diego replied. “The one attached to that super shady bar you had me check out over a year ago?” 

“That’s the one,” Cortez nodded. “Recently changed ownership about six months ago, we believe that a lot of the dealing is happening there. We need someone to go in and investigate you know? Get some details on who may be at the head of all this shit, who knows what, whatever information you might be able to work out.” 

“You want me to get involved in this shit?” Diego asked, knowing he would do it no matter how dangerous. He could already feel the buzz under his skin, the excitement, the thought of doing something this big. Cortez had called him an adrenalin junkie more than once, but Diego saw it as righting all the wrongs he’s committed. 

As a child, he at first enjoyed the missions his father sent him on, believed that he was helping others. But now he felt like everyone he saved back then; it was all for nothing. He knew he had hurt people int eh process, had gotten away with a lot of shit, they all had. 

But he liked doing this job, knowing that he was helping someone, being able to keep the rolling anger under his skin contained by telling himself he was helping, was doing good. It calmed him, centered him, allowed him to work towards actually helping this city instead of hurting it. 

“No,” Cortez said, shaking his head. “In fact, I’m telling you not to. You don’t want to get involved in this Diego. Not if this is as big as we think it is.” 

Diego narrowed his eyes, taking in his friend’s body language. Cortez was an easy man to read, which was why he wasn’t often out in the field and mostly worked as an information broker. He wasn’t good at fieldwork, but the man had a way with words. 

Diego took in his tensed shoulder, the way he was staring into his coffee, the slight twitch to his eyes. 

“You’re not telling me something,” Diego stated lowly. “I can’t work this job without all the information.” 

Cortez sighed, shaking his head and tapping his fingers against his mug. 

“You remember when we were back in the academy?” He asked softly. 

“Obviously,” Diego said, equally as soft. The two of them met in the academy, the two of them along with Eudora becoming the trio to look out for, the three biggest up and coming officers. “I’m not that old.” 

“You know that stupid fairy-tale that the older recruits would tell us, make us excited that maybe one day we might be able to take on a gang so elusive all the force knew was their name?” Cortez asked, finally looking over at Diego. 

“The Crimson Lions?” Diego asked, laughing. “It’s a horror story Cortez, meant to scare the rookies into dropping out or at least motivate people into believing that they could maybe be the one to crack the case? It was all talk.” 

Cortez shook his head. 

“I don’t think it is,” He replied. “The name Mattia Bianchi sound familiar?” 

Diego nodded immediately. 

“The one who everyone theorized to be apart of the so-called Crimson Lions? Police caught him a few times but no charges struck. As far as we’ve aware he’s an innocent man.” Diego said lowly. He truly didn’t believe Mattia was innocent, he had never met the man, but his legend was widespread. 

A man whose DNA was found linked to two separate homicide cases, but all charges were dropped thanks to his wickedly good lawyer and well-timed confessions from other suspects. Eudora had bitched about him more than once, she claimed to know he killed those people, that he was getting away too easily. But even she hadn’t been able to find any dirt to throw onto him. 

“The tipper gave us his name; said he was part of it. Coincidently, Mattia is apparently a frequent at the casino in question.” Cortez said. 

“You can’t honestly believe the gang we’re talking about is The Crimson Lions right?” Diego asked. “It’s a ghost story Cortez, there’s no evidence about it, only loosely based theories that have been easily explained away.” 

“I’m not saying anything,” Cortez said, but Diego knew he was lying. “I’m only telling you to watch out. We don’t know what we’re playing with here, and I don’t want you getting too tied up with all of this. Don’t get into anything you can’t get out of.” 

“You want me to go to this place, set up surveillance and hope that no one figured me out and decided to off me,” Diego said. “I don’t get how I can not get involved in this.” 

“I mean don’t go digging in so deep that I find your body in a back alley with a bullet buried in your brain.” Cortez snapped. “Get in there, scope it out, report your finding to our designated spot. You are not to engage, and if it gets choppy you bail immediately and call for backup. Understand?” 

Diego got the familiar shudder behind his shoulders, the one he always got when people ordered him around like that. One of the reasons he would have failed in the actual police force, the idea of being ordered all day made him want to snap. But this was Cortez, who rarely ordered him, and Diego could understand the worry, as much as he hated it. 

“Understood.” He said through clenched teeth. 

Cortez relaxed, his shoulders slumping. 

“We should get a drink at some point.” He said, a white flag between them. “Just go out to a bar a few miles out, catch up as actual friends instead of this professional bullshit.” 

“I’m flattered,” Diego said with a grin. “But I don’t think Steph would appreciate you flirting with me.” 

“Screw off Hargreeves,” Cortez groaned, shaking his head, unable to hold back the smile on his lips. His smile fell soon though as his voice dropped lower. “Money for this job will be in the dropbox in the building next to your place. Check it at 3 pm tomorrow.”

“It was nice catching up man,” Diego said loud enough for everyone to hear him, before lowering his voice. “Got it. All information I get will be placed under the bench in the park by the gym I work at like usual, check every other Thursday night at midnight. Call my cell if you need to arrange another meeting.” 

With that he turned to walk away, leaving Cortez at the bar nursing his coffee mug. 

__________________________________________________

His work at the gym wasn’t anything important. It was easy to secure, Al was always looking for someone to do his dirty work, and the little boiler room he called home wasn’t all too bad either. 

It was a well-constructed backdrop. He was a police academy drop out who now worked evenings mopping floors and boxing for an income. At night he would go out as a masked vigilante to build up a reputation in case he ever needed it. 

It was his failsafe, the place he went to when he had no where else to be. When he wasn’t out doing whatever job Cortez sent him on he was here, playing the role until he was needed again. He had made peace with the illusion, slipping into the persona easily. 

He had a feeling that even if he didn’t score this gig that he had, he would have somehow still ended up here, just a lot sadder and angrier than he was now. His job gave him an outlet, an opportunity to work off all the stress that built up inside of him. 

He was truly indebted to the opportunity, to the option to live the way he did. 

He wasn’t looking forwards to this job. Sure, the idea of taking on something this big, this important, it was exhilarating. But if Cortez, how knew his skills and what he had done in the past, was scared for him. Maybe he should be slightly concerned. 

Diego was used to meddling in things bigger than him, but just how big was this? 

The Crimson Lions was a myth. A fairy-tale and a ghost story wrapped into one. 

Diego first heard it in his first year at the academy, a gang so powerful that not even the highest chief of the police knew any details. A power so crushing that it loomed even above the police. Cortez, Patch and he used to talk about it, spinning useless fantasies of them taking it down, being the first detective to move forwards in the case. 

It was a foolish dream, the musings of three kids who barely understood anything. But maybe Diego should indulge in those fantasies again. 

If the Crimson Lions were real, he was the one who was tasked with getting close to them, the one who was going to be investigating it. It left him with that familiar childish longing, the ability to prove himself. He had always been number two, the disgraced child, the violent student who got kicked out of the academy. He had never had a true win in his life. 

But this job, this case, it was huge. It could prove to everyone once and for all that Diego Hargreeves was someone to be respected, that he was the one in charge, that he was important, worth the attention. 

It was a childish need of his, the need to be loved, appreciated, recognized. And yet it never went away. 

He lived his whole life craving that validation on some level, and solving and busting small level crime as he had been lately wasn’t doing it. Doing all this shit under the cover of his mask wasn’t enough for him. 

But taking down a famed gang? Uncovering a possible Mafia relation? It was huge, like nothing he could have ever imagined. 

He couldn’t bust this one, couldn’t fuck this up. 

And yet he almost didn’t want to, he didn’t want to march into that casino and do his job, observe and collect intelligence. 

It was a bad feeling rolling in his gut, telling him that this all was a stupid idea, that it wasn’t going to end well. 

The conflicting views fought inside him, battling for dominance in his mind. 

But no matter what, he had to do this. He was ordered, and if he wanted to keep this gig, this opportunity, he had to follow what they told him. If he didn’t he would truly get kicked off to the streets. He would lose everything he worked towards in the past ten years of his life. 

He decided it at midnight that night. The next day he would go down there, order some drinks, maybe gamble a bit and try to note who looked suspicious. He would wait a single day before going back, noting regulars or anyone he had seen the day before. After a week of going every other day, it would be safe to go daily, maybe talk to some employees and get some information of owners and other important figures. 

He felt better, having a roughly sketched out plan of action. 

When he lay his head on his pillow that night he may have no had what he would classify a good sleep, but it was the best he was getting with these circumstances. 

_____________________________________________

“Are you sure you can take this?” Eudora’s voice was scratchy over the shitty cell phone that he owned, but the concern was understandable. 

She was the only one other than Cortez who knew this job. She wasn’t actually supposed to know anything about anything he did, but when had Diego ever been able to keep anything form her? Anything important that is. 

She defiantly didn’t approve, and in her eyes he was breaking the laws, and she didn’t find it amusing when he insisted he was only bending it. She had a black and white type of view on the law, and that was that if he failed the academy, if he wasn’t allowed to be a proper cop, then he shouldn’t get the privileges of one, shouldn’t be allowed to operate the way he did. 

They worked it out in the end, a fragile truce between the two of them. He promised to always let her in on his operations, especially if it involved some of her cases. And in return, she wouldn’t curse him out nightly and taze him whenever he showed up at her crime scene. That being said, she still sometimes did, but he knew that every time she did he very well deserved it. 

“Of course I can,” He replied. “Are you doubting me Eudora?”

“I thought I told you to stop calling me that,” She sighed. “I just don’t want you to get mixed up with this. I don’t get why they want you on this.” 

“Because I’m the best?” He offered. 

“At being a dumbass maybe.” She shot back with ease. “But your cover is too important to blow. It’s a dumb move.” 

“I don’t ask questions,” He said. “I just follow orders.” 

“Oh god,” She moaned. “Never let me hear those lies from your lips ever again.” 

“Hey!” He protested. “I never lie to you.”

“I can count at least ten occasions form the top of my head.” 

“That’s not the point.” He stressed. “The point is you should be glad that I’m finally listening to orders and not doing whatever I feel like.” 

“You are so full of it,” She sighed. “Just be safe okay?” 

“Damn Patch, you almost sound worried.” He joked lightly. 

“Screw off,” Came the expected reply.

“You're getting soft on me,” He teased. 

“I will punch you the next time you show up at my crime scene.” She warned. 

“I can’t wait,” he said fondly. “Anyways, I’m heading down their now, wish me luck.” 

“Don’t get shot in the head by an angry mafia boss,” She said dryly. “Goodbye idiot.” 

With that, she hung up, and he couldn’t stop the small grin from stretching across his lips like it always did when he talked to her. 

They weren’t dating, it would never work out. But he couldn’t stop himself from hoping, dreaming that they could one day put away all the bullshit between them and solve the tension between them. But dreams were dreams, never real and disappeared over time. 

Something about hearing her voice calmed his nerves either way, filling him with confidence as he pushed open the doors to Lucky Star Casino, keeping his head high as he walked in, his eyes darting across the room. 

Nothing looked out of place, it was just like a normal casino. With people at various machines, a few playing cards, the smell of smoke heavy in the air. He debated playing a few rounds, trying his hand at a machine or a game. Cortez left him close to two thousand to waste away with his cover, which was more money than Diego even knew what to do with at a casino. Apparently, whatever difference he made he could keep, which was an added bonus. 

He figured the bar would be more popular, so he headed that way. It was a Thursday afternoon, too early for people to back from work quite yet. The bar was a normal looking establishment, a pool table and darts in the back, a large bar area, a few chairs, and a wall that appeared to be made out of different beer glasses.

He quickly looked around, noting the number of people. It was more well-populated than the casino at this point in the day, Diego had to estimate maybe around thirty people loitering around, drinking or talking to each other. 

He briefly considered his options, he needed to do something other than stand at the entrance looking like an idiot. He could go sit at the bar an order a drink and try to go for the loner looking for a drink, go heckle the people at the dart table and try to make a reputation, or he could butt into a group and try his luck. 

He wanted to keep a low profile for now, so he headed towards the bar, settling down at an empty barstool and flagging down the barista, ordering a bottle of whiskey. He did his best to blend in, glancing around and taking in everyone around him. 

Scattered around was a bunch of beautiful looking girls wearing skimpy clothes, the way they glanced at each other and flouted from table to table, he figured they were working girls. As long as they didn’t bother him they were fine. Not out of suspicion, no one really was yet, but he found that working girls never put up too much trouble, tending to avoid the eye of the law. 

A group of rough-looking biker type individuals stood near the back playing pool, jostling and clearly buzzed, if not already drunk. He tried not to pass judgment. One looked almost ready to fall over, one of his friends holding him up. 

Hew as startled out of his musing by the bar keeper slamming his drink in front of him. 

“Never seen you around here,” He said, leaning on the counter and staring at Diego with unnervingly blue eyes. He tried not to squirm. “You new here?” 

“Lived here a while,” Diego replied smoothly. “Never heard of this place until I saw it when walking around town. I decided to check it out when the time arose.” He shrugged, smiling easily. “The time arose.” 

The bartender smiled back, his eyes flickering over Diego’s shoulders as if looking at someone. 

“Can I give you a word of advice?” He asked. “As a newcomer?” 

“Of course,” Diego replied eagerly, leaning forwards to feign an almost innocent type of interest. He wanted to come off as a silly little local looking for a place to blow some cash. The last thing he wanted to do was radiate cop energy. 

“Don’t stare at people you have no business staring at,” The easy smile on the bartenders’ face was gone. “It’s a good bar, but it’s easy to get mixed up with some people you don’t want to. You go around watching people like you were and you're going to get a bad reputation around here, and the last thing I want is a fight in my bar, okay?” 

Diego blinked, leaning away. He truly wasn’t expecting that if he was totally honest. But he took it in stride. 

“Oh,” He said, not breaking eye contact. “I don’t mean to cause trouble, I just thought I’d look around see who else comes here, see if I can meet someone new.” 

The bartender smiled loosely, shaking his head and laughing slightly. 

“You do you man,” He said cheerfully. “Just don’t say I didn’t warn ya.” 

Diego stayed for another twenty minutes before he slipped out, the back of his neck prickling as if someone was watching him from across the room, but when he looked back, there was no one looking at him. 

He didn’t shake the feeling for the rest of the night, not even when he put on his mask and slipped into the night to vent his frustrations out. 

___________________________________

Six months later, and nothing new had happened. He learned a bit about the regulars, had even become a regular himself. He threw some darts, won some easy money off some drunk college kids. He became friends with one of the bartenders, the first one he met when he entered, a man named Elliot. All in all, he worked to fit in best he could. 

There was certainly something fishy going on in the establishment, people disappearing into a back room with an escort to make sure no one saw their face, men meeting in corners with their heads ducked low to avoid detection. Woman walking around and slipping things into other people’s hands, their winks a little too knowing to be just flirtatious. 

The only infuriating thing was that so far, it was hard to get names. He had a few of the regulars pinned down from when he followed them from the bar, but he rarely learned more than names. Any names he provided to the police were yet to get back to him, even two weeks after he gave them in. 

Cortez was adamant that he stay away from the thick of it still, staying in the background and only engaging if something big happened. Diego had to admit he was getting restless at this point. There was little to nothing happening, a few suspicious meetings, but no violence, no drugs, nothing that seemed out of place. 

But Diego stayed put, telling himself over and over again that it would take a while to establish his ground here before he could actually get digging into things that were important. Right now he was still scoping out the place, getting a true feeling about the people he was dealing with here. 

But as far as he could tell at this point, it was a normal bar with normal dealings. The regulars could simply be people that liked drinking and gambling, and the few whispered names he sometimes heard could be nothing more than speculation. 

There was one name he hear more than once, a name that was high on his must find list. Kadir. He heard it used to threaten people, whispered behind backs in lowered voices. Name that seemed to cast a spell throughout the bar. 

If Diego had to guess, it was someone who was very important to whatever could be happening here.

Either way, the case was slow-moving and it was driving Diego insane. He was at the bar again, nursing a beer and wondering if he could drop by Eudora’s that night for a drink or something. She had recently taken a big murder case, and she sometimes found it fun to bounce ideas off of him. 

He was stuck in his musings when someone sat beside him, startling him slightly. He cursed himself for getting lost in thought, focusing on the man sitting next to him. He was large, around Diego’s height but a lot larger, nearly twice his weight in pure muscle. He had a large scar running down his face and over his eye, and Diego immediately knew who it was. 

One of the casino workers who often came to the bar after his shift, Jimmy Anderson. Came from a fairly good family, first arrest was at the age of fourteen for petty theft. Had a reputation for having no tolerance with cheaters or others who gave anyone any type of problem. 

Someone settled down on Diego’s other side, and he slipped his hand to his waist, fingering the knives he had nestled there. He knew the other guy only by the fact that he tried to accuse Diego of cheating in darts over a week ago, pissed that he lost twenty bucks to him. 

“You come here often.” The man said, more of a statement than a question. Diego decided to take it as a question anyways. 

“Sorry,” Diego replied cheekily. “Not interested.” 

The man barred his teeth, eyes narrowing.

“Neither am I.” He replied hotly. “The only thing I’m interested in is why a man stinking of a cop is hanging around in my bar for the past few weeks.” 

Diego didn’t let any of his surprise show. 

“Not a cop man,” He chuckled. “That ship sailed.” 

“So you admit you were one?” Jimmy countered. 

“I tried,” Diego cast a side-glance towards him, a sly grin on his lips. “I didn’t like following the rules. They kicked me out after I decked some asshole.” 

It was the truth. He wasn’t here to play a part, he was here as Diego Hargreeves, the disgraced police wannabe, who now worked in a crappy gym for a living. It was the easiest to fall back onto, since there really wasn’t much lying involved. Technically, in a way that was his life. The only downfall was that if this job went south, he would have to abandon the closest thing he actually had to a life. The carefully constructed façade he depended on. 

He would have to start anew somewhere different, something he wasn’t really looking forwards to. 

“Fuck the police right?” Jimmy said, shaking his head. “Always snooping where they’re not supposed to be.” 

Diego nodded, his fingers tensing on his knife once again. Call it a gut feeling, but something was going wrong. He hoped he didn’t fuck this all up after so many months of constructing this image. He had no idea why Jimmy approached him today, but if he suspected him to be a cop? It was bad news.

“Why are you here?” The other man asked, drawing his attention to the other side. 

“You guys are terribly nosey,” Diego deflected. “Are you guys the police? Am I under investigation?” 

Maybe it was the wrong thing to say, because the atmosphere in the entire bar quickly changed, turning dark as the two men glared down at him, the rest of the bar seemed to sense it, the loud murmur of conversation dying down. 

“We just want to know what outsiders are making trouble in our bar,” The first man said. “Is that an issue?” 

“Hey man,” Diego said, backtracking. He tried to rein in the anger that had started to spark, the part of him that urged him to fight, to throw a fist and get rid of the agitation brewing under his skin. He hadn’t had any actual action in ages, and a part of him ached for a fight. “I meant nothing by it.” 

“Didn’t sound like you meant nothing,” The second guy snarled, stepping closer. 

“I’m not looking to start something,” Diego said softly, raising a hand in a placating manner, although his other hand stayed firmly glues to his knife, ready to pull it out should anything go south. He stood up from his seat, the other two men echoing the movement.

“Maybe I am,” The man said, stepping closer, and then a door in the back flew open, and a man stumbled out. 

The last person Diego was excepting to see was Klaus, dressed in a stupidly bright neon yellow crop top, tight leather pants, and a faux fur coat. His hair tousled and he moved with the grace of a newborn fawn on a lot of drugs. 

He paused when he saw Diego, his mouth falling open comically. 

“Diego!” He cried, throwing up his hands and rushing forwards, throwing them around Diego before he could react. Diego quickly shrugged off the embrace, a frown forming on his lips. 

He had dealt with a lot of Klaus’s shit over the years, picking him up from the police, sitting in on his trial, dropping him off and picking him up at numerous rehab sessions. The last time they met hadn’t ended on friendly terms. 

Klaus had come into his house, lying and saying that he wanted to get better, that he messed up and he needed help. Diego gave him ten bucks and the key to his house in case he needed a place to stay. He woke up the next morning with nearly 200 dollars worth of items stolen from his house, a note with Klaus’s name and a crude little heart drawn beside it. 

That was nearly four years ago, and the last he heard of Klaus was him getting sentenced to a year in prison for prostitution. He hadn’t tried to seek Klaus out since, the anger left over from their last few meetings still simmering under his skin. 

He tried to not hate his brother, and a part of him didn’t. A part of him felt guilty for not trying to help Klaus out of the hole, but it was hard when Klaus seemed so admen to continue digging. You can’t help someone who didn’t want to be helped, and soon Diego had to just stop trying. 

Seeing his brother now, clearly drugged up and interrupting Diego’s work, well it made him a bit pissed, to say the least. 

“What are you doing here?” He hissed, grabbing Klaus’s arm in a tight grip. Klaus seemed unconcerned, shaking a hand in the air. 

“I come here all the time, everyone’s just so nice,” He shot a wink to Jimmy, who turned a bit red under the gaze. Diego filed that away for later. “And the drinks are wonderful, have you tried their Long Island Iced Tea? Heavenly.” 

“Klaus,” Diego warned, used to tuning out the rambling. “You shouldn’t be here.” 

He saw how Jimmy and the other man in the background seemed to bristle at that, stepping closer, but Klaus only threw back his head and laughed, causing the men to stop once again. 

“Oh Dee, I forgot how much I enjoyed your bullheadedness.” Klaus sighed, patting Diego’s cheek lightly. Diego swatted them away, but that only seemed to make Klaus’s smile grow larger. 

Suddenly Klaus looked around, seeming to finally notice the tension and the men twice his size looming in the background threateningly. 

“Is there a problem?” He asked innocently, his voice oddly high and Diego spoke up before anyone else could. 

“Just some guys looking for a fight, but we were leaving,” Diego said firmly, trying to drag his brother out. 

He couldn’t help but feel protective of Klaus, the dude was scrawny, limbs like spaghetti and he was drugged halfway to the high heavens, if a fight started he would lose any angle he had to play at. 

Fuck, he probably already had by causing this large of a scene, he should have never tried to engage, never had tried to goat the man into letting something up. He may have just ruined a cover that he would have to spend months getting back. 

“Were you getting into a fight Jim?” Klaus asked, turning to the man. 

“Of course not, just scooping out the new guy,” Jim answered gruffly. “Smelled like a cop to us.” 

He stressed the word cop, and something deep inside Diego bristled a bit at the way it was said as if a swear word. 

“He’s cool,” Klaus replied easily. “He’s with me aren’t you Dee?” 

Diego said nothing, grinding his teeth together instead to calm the anger rising inside him. Couldn’t Klaus keep his mouth shut for five seconds?

“Sure,” The second guy said, stepping back. “Then there was no fight going on here.” 

“Good,” Klaus said, staring the man down with narrowed eyes. “I’d hate for word about this to carry,” 

The other man blinked, his face turning a shade paler as he shook his head. The words seemed to have an effect on the man.

“There was nothing going on,” He insisted. 

“Great!” Klaus said, giving him a thumbs up and clapping his hands. “Just remember that Kadir is still watching you Alan.” He winked at the man, who opened and closed his mouth in what almost looked like fear, before Klaus was marching out, dragging Diego behind him. Diego was still reeling; the name drop confusing him. 

Did Klaus somehow know who the mysterious Kadir was? Was Klaus somehow involved in all this shit? That thought by itself was enough for Diego’s blood to freeze in his veins, before the anger was back thawing it into boiling hot once again.

“What the hell was that?” Diego hissed, his hands wrapping against his brothers’ arms in an attempt to slow him down. Klaus kept walking.

“What was what?” Klaus asked innocently. 

“That,” Diego stressed. “Back there in the bar? Who is Kadir? Who are those people and how do you know them?” 

“Oh those are just some of the boys Diego,” Klaus waved a hand. “Don’t worry about them.” 

“Too late,” Diego deadpanned. God he hoped Klaus hadn’t gotten mixed up in this shit. 

“The bigger question is why you were there,” Klaus continued. “Didn’t take you for a gambler.” 

“Times change,” Diego tried to deflect, and Klaus leveled the closest thing he could get to a glare at him It somehow made Diego even more pissed, igniting the sparks already rolling under his skin. It took a visible effort to calm himself down from shaking his brother and demanding how he got caught up in all that shit. 

“No they don’t,” Klaus said softly. “Look at us, four years and barely anything has changed.” 

“Yeah,” Diego shot back. “You’re still a goddamn junkie who whores himself out for money.” 

Maybe it was uncalled for, maybe it was too harsh, but Diego was so caught up in the bullshit that he failed to really consider what he was saying. It was easier to pretend that it never bothered Klaus, that he was used to this kind of abuse at this point. 

“And you’re still a hot-headed asshole who thinks he’s better than everyone else because he doesn’t snort cocaine.” Klaus shot back, but he didn’t sound angry, he almost sounded amused by the whole exchange. “Fun fact Diego, you can be a junkie to other things too.” 

“Like what?” Diego found himself asking, already tired of this conversation. He wanted to drop Klaus back in whatever alley he crawled out of and go back to the gym to lick his wounds in peace. But he knew he couldn’t, and sometimes he hated the feeling of being responsible for other people.

“Adrenaline, for one, how about breaking the rules? What about the thrill of a fight?” Klaus listed. “Or maybe it’s the rush of hurting others, of proving that you can break them down and stand over them when their already down, proving that despite it all you can be powerful.” 

Diego blinked at his brother, wondering how this conversation got here. He tried to ignore the sting; the way Klaus always somehow knew exactly what to say to break Diego down. He was the only one other than Eudora who was capable of actually getting him to feel guilty about something he did or said. 

“What were you doing at that bar Klaus?” He said lowly, changing the topic. Looking around he noticed they managed to land themselves in front of Griddy’s Donut Shop. “It’s a simple question.” 

“Do you want the answer?” Klaus taunted. 

“Of course,” Diego snapped. “Why the hell would I have asked otherwise?” 

“Buy me a donut and maybe I’ll consider answering,” Klaus said with a wink, floundering into the store with the twinkle of a bell in the background. 

“Fuck,” Diego cursed, shaking his head and sighing. 

He had nothing better to do at this point, so he followed Klaus into the store.

**Author's Note:**

> Thoughts? 
> 
> I might re-edit some parts of this chapter, simply because I'm not overly happy with every part of it. But eh. 
> 
> Anyways, please leave a comment telling me what you think below!!


End file.
